Countdown to 2010
by magickmoons
Summary: A series of related one-shots set in the 2010 AU - what happened between meeting the Aschen and 2010? * Pairings: Jack/Sam UST, Sam/Joe *
1. Almost

**Series Title:** Countdown to 2010  
**Characters/Pairings:** Jack/Sam, Sam/Joe Faxon  
**Notes/Warnings:** a series of one-shots all set within the _2010_ AU

* * *

**Title:** Almost  
**Characters/Pairings:** Jack(/Sam), Sam/Joe Faxon  
**Notes/Warnings: **set in the _2010_ AU. Written for a challenge at LiveJournal's Writerverse. Prompt: sparkle.

* * *

Sam shone brightly, drawing Jack's eyes even from across the room. She was laughing at something that popinjay of an ambassador had said, her hand resting lightly on his arm. He leaned down and whispered into her ear. Her expression changed, her smile softening as she nodded.

He left her briefly, returning with their coats. The flush in her cheeks became more pronounced as Faxon allowed his hands to brush her bare arms as he helped her into her coat. Jack downed the rest of his drink in the hope of drowning the images that came unbidden to his mind. He had wanted to be the one to put that sparkle in her eyes; he had always intended that one day, he would. But in the end, it wasn't him. And he could almost convince himself that he was happy for her.

He grabbed another glass from a passing tray as he watched Faxon lead Sam out of the ballroom.

Almost.


	2. The Heroes of Earth

**Chapter Title:** The Heroes of Earth  
**Character:** Jack O'Neill  
**Summary:** Yes, Virginia, there are aliens  
**Notes:** Takes place early in the series.  
Written to writerverse quick fic prompt: On the front page

* * *

The clouds in the early morning sky were heavy and gray. Jack would bet anything that there would be at least a few fresh inches on the ground by evening. Might as well fill up now, he thought, and pulled into the gas station and up to an open pump. As he walked into the little convenience store, it occurred to him that it would be a good idea to grab a couple of Toblerones as peace offerings for Carter and Daniel. Not up to his usual standards - he liked to put a little more effort into making it look thoughtless- but he wanted to get to the Mountain as quickly as possible and start to assess what the fallout from yesterday's worldwide announcement was. Yes, Virginia, there are aliens, some of them are really bad, but hey, there's also these Aschen fellas who are just going to answer all our prayers, so don't worry your pretty little head about it.

Crap, he could practically hear Kinsey's voice; that can't be a good sign. Fallout-wise, though, he was pretty hopeful. No obvious fires, looting, or bizarre cult-ish demonstrations were visible on his ride through the Springs.

The personal fallout of his 'discussion' about the Aschen's intentions with Daniel and Carter on the flight back was still to be seen. It had gotten pretty heated. Carter had been on the edge throwing military protocol out the door - along with Jack, if her repressed glare had been any indication. Daniel, not subject to any such constraints, had let him have it and Jack had given back as good as he got. He hadn't backed off until Teal'c's stern look had made him feel like a young jaffa getting caught doing... whatever it is they weren't supposed to do. Smile, laugh?

He mentally shrugged and grabbed the chocolate bars and headed to the coffee station, hoping that the caffeine could offset his lack of sleep. A couple of teenage girls, probably on their way to school, stared at him as he passed them. He gave them a small smile and nod and they practically fell over themselves giggling. He tried to look at himself in the semi-reflective surface of the nearby microwave but couldn't see anything that would cause laughter.

It's not like his personal feelings about the Aschen were going to make a difference at this point. The news was out there. The whole world knew about the gate, the Goa'uld, the Aschen. Couldn't put the toothpaste back in the tube. And, if he couldn't convince his own team after all they had been through, it was unlikely he was going to convince anyone else. Especially when all he had was a gut feeling that seemed to be contradicted by every piece of available evidence.

He felt a slight tug on the hem of his jacket as he was fastening the lid on the coffee cup and he looked down to see a little boy smiling up at him.

"Hello," the child said.

"Hey, big guy," he answered affably, looking up to see if there was a parent around. A woman approached, smiling apologetically. "Don't bother Colonel O'Neill, Aaron," she said as she took the boy's hand in her own. "I'm so sorry," she said to Jack.

"Not a problem, ma'am." Jack frowned slightly, trying to place the two. He wasn't in uniform, wasn't wearing any rank insignia, and the fact that she knew his name rankled uncomfortably. He started back up to the front, the chocolate in one hand, coffee in the other, and decided they must be family of someone at the SGC. He'd probably met them at some barbecue.

Setting his purchases down on the counter, he pulled out his wallet and started thumbing through the bills. "Okay, let me get $20.00 on pump 2 and this stuff." He looked up to see the cashier staring at him wide eyed.

"Are you really him?"

Jack stared at the kid. "Really who?"

"Jack O'Neill. The guy who saved Earth."

With a sinking feeling, Jack looked around to see everyone in the store staring at him. The two teen girls were on their cell phones, an older man looked on approvingly, and Aaron was about to twist his mother's arm off trying to get back to Jack.

"Uhhh," he started, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. Then his eyes fell on the rack of newspapers near the door and he froze. Every single one had a banner headline about the stargate. He'd expected that; it would be news for months. But at least one of the papers had a full-color photo, above the fold, of SG-1 at yesterday's ceremony.

**The Heroes of Earth**

He should have expected this, would have, if his mind hadn't been filled with Kinsey's sneers, Carter's doubts, and Daniel's frustration.

"Yeah," he muttered, not so much an answer to the question, more a verbal nod as he put all the pieces together.

But then the questions started.

"Can I have your autograph?"  
"Can I get a picture with you?"  
"What are aliens really like?"  
"How many have you killed?"

Flashes from those disposable cameras started going off in his face, leaving little dots of light dancing in his vision.

"You know, folks, I really have to get to work now."

"Fighting aliens?" Aaron asked excitedly.

He started edging toward the door, giving the kid a smile and a thumbs up. Safely back in his truck, he realized he had left all his purchases in the store; of course, he hadn't paid for them either, so it kind of worked out. It looked like he was just going to have to face the Wonder Twins relying only on his own charm this morning.

Ignoring the audience crowded in the doorway of the store, he pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the Mountain.


	3. A Place in History

**Title:** A Place in History******  
Characters/Pairings:** Joe Faxon, Robert Kinsey**********  
Notes/Warnings:** written to the prompt, midnight, on livejournal's writerverse comm. This comes early in this 'verse, after _Almost_ and well before _Growing Suspicions_.

* * *

2001

Joe Faxon took a sip from his now-cold coffee. He glanced at his watch as he put the cup down – midnight. It had been an extremely long day as the small committee had considered the final draft of the Earth-Aschen treaty. He looked to the head of the table where Senator Kinsey had just resumed his seat. The politician's self-satisfied attitude told Joe all he needed to know.

Kinsey spoke. "The President has agreed to the final provision." A frisson on tension filled the room and he held his hand up, forestalling the outcry. "I was able to talk the Aschen down from a 50% reduction in the birth rate to only a 30% reduction."

Joe closed his eyes; part of him still couldn't believe that they were talking about this.

"Obviously, the program will concentrate on the most over-populated areas of the planet..." Kinsey continued to speak as Joe tried to keep the mouthful of coffee from coming back up at the thought that they were considering this. The Aschen had laid out their argument to curtail Earth's population explosion very rationally from the beginning, but only in the last 24 hours, the day before the signing ceremony was to take place, had they made it a deal-breaking condition of the treaty.

When Kinsey stopped speaking, Joe spoke up. "Senator, this is a radical plan. There must be some other way, something we can counter with. Or maybe, we just walk away."

"Walking away from this deal is not an option, Mr. Faxon. We are in open war with the Goa'uld and the Aschen represent our saving grace."

Joe tried again. "I don't know that we'll be able to get enough buy-in. There will be a lot of people against this." He dreaded Sam's reaction when she heard about

Kinsey sighed. "You weren't listening to me. The President has signed off and is urging the other world leaders involved to do the same. It's a done deal." He smiled smugly. "We negotiated the treaty that will save Earth, Ambassador."

And revive your political career, Joe thought sourly.

"As for any potential nay-sayers who may try to dig too deeply into this_ highly classified_ treaty, and I think we all know who they may be..." he paused to shoot a pointed look at Joe. "As of tonight, Colonel O'Neill is being reassigned to a duty better suited to his talents and our needs. In fact, all of SG-1 is receiving new orders."

Kinsey closed the folder in front of him and stood. The others around the table followed suit. "Thank you, gentlemen. Rest assured that you have all secured your place in history." Joe watched him leave and prayed that history would think well of them.


	4. Growing Suspicions

**Title:** Growing Suspicions  
**Characters/Pairings:** Jacob, Jack/Sam, Sam/Joe  
**Notes/Warnings: **Character Death. It was written for writerverse prompts: crack of dawn, unexpected, enough

* * *

**October 2002**

**SGC**

A knock at the door broke Jack's concentration. He had been reviewing plans for the Tagrea offensive for hours. He still wasn't convinced the push was even necessary, much less worth the projected casualties. No scenario he came up with could reduce them to a level he felt comfortable with.

If only Carter and her team - the Aschen team, he reminded himself bitterly - would just finish that damn bio-weapon... Carter had never let him down, but he didn't know what to expect with those damn, smug, humorless creeps in the mix.

He looked up, his irritation at being interrupted plain on his face, to see Jacob Carter standing there with a wry smile on his face.

"Jacob."

"So, Jack, I heard about your new assignment." Jack glanced back down at the paperwork spread across his desk. So much for small talk then. Then the older man continued. "Come on, let's go grab some lunch in town."

Jack paused at the unusual invitation. While they had almost always enjoyed a good working relationship, he and Jacob had never socialized except for a few dinners with Carter over the years. Still, there was a look of urgency on the Tok'ra's face that had Jack nodding and locking up his office without a question. They chatted about inconsequential things on their way to the surface and through the security checkpoints: Sam's latest letter home, the Avalanche's chances in the coming season, Daniel's reassignment to relocation liaison.

Once they were in Jack's truck and on the road, Jacob's tone turned serious.

"You may have been right all along about the Aschen, Jack."

Jack shot him a sidelong look, trying to gauge the seriousness of the statement. The Tok'ra, as a whole, had readily agreed to work with the new Tau'ri ally, and Jacob had seemed just as happy as anyone to believe in the miracle that was the Aschen.

"Well, that's... unexpected," he replied casually. "Is this you, Selmak, or the Tok'ra talking?"

Jacob huffed. "It's just me and Selmak, unfortunately. Officially, the Tok'ra position hasn't changed."

Jack struggled to tone down the bitterness trying to inject itself into his tone. He really could have used an ally a couple of years ago, before they were inextricably intertwined with the Aschen. "So, what caused this change of heart?"

Jacob was silent for a couple of minutes, watching the road disappearing under the truck. He shook his head. "I've been watching their tactics, which strategies they support, which they oppose, and which ones they will not give in on. I don't know if you're getting any of this; I get the feeling you're not involved with the high-level discussions here anymore."

Jack shook his head briefly. Kinsey had maneuvered himself into the good graces of the Aschen early on. While it was impossible to totally get rid of Jack, the senator had managed to do a very thorough job of marginalizing him.

"We're losing a lot of resources by going on the offensive while they are developing this weapon of theirs," Jacob continued. "Enough is enough. Both George and I have recommended that we hold the ground we've got for the time being. Sam seems to think that the weapon should be ready soon. There's no need for us to maintain an offensive posture that we can't support."

Jack swallowed, thinking about the casualty projections sitting on his desk.

"I don't disagree with you, Jacob. But I don't know what you think I can do about, if you and General Hammond can't change their minds."

"Mostly, I just wanted to let you know that if you do find the proof I know you're still looking for, George and I will listen." Jack nodded and slowed to turn into the restaurant parking lot. "I don't have the time right now, but maybe when I get back from this damned fool's errand they're sending me on now, the three of us could get together and compare notes."

Jack nodded, a feeling of relief at potential allies slightly mitigating the feeling of foreboding that he hadn't been able to shake almost since they had met the Aschen. By unspoken agreement, conversation over dinner turned back to topics more suitable for public consumption, as they enjoyed a pleasant meal before Jack returned Jacob to the Mountain.

* * *

**THREE WEEKS LATER**

**P47-970 (the Aschen homeworld)**

Sam woke to an insistent beeping. Brushing the sleep from her eyes, she made her way across the sparsely furnished room to the desktop communications panel. "Yes?"

A carefully modulated Aschen voice informed her that they were relaying an urgent message from Earth. She froze for a moment as she heard General Hammond's voice. Communications regarding the project were routed through the Aschen control center; there were only a handful of reasons the general would be contacting her directly. Faces flashed through her mind in a dizzying, sickening cycle and she had to concentrate to hear his actual words.

An alien sunrise was just breaking over the horizon, throwing pinks and purples into the dimly lit room as she listened to Hammond's gentle, somber voice relate the facts as they knew them behind her father's death. A spy in the Tok'ra ranks; a betrayal to Bast; a hidden explosive on her father's ship.

She sat, unmoving, for some time after the message ended, watching the slow progress of the sun as it grew, watching the light change color as it moved across the sky. The bright, vibrant colors only intensified the dull ache in her chest. She had never felt as alone as she did right now. The colonel was off on the other end of the galaxy, in the thick of the latest campaign. Teal'c was working with the rebel Jaffa and no one could say for sure where he was. Daniel was supposed to be have been here with her, learning more about the history of the peoples in the Aschen Federation, but at the last minute he had been reassigned to work with the refugees from the constantly shifting front-line worlds being conquered and reconquered by the Goa'uld.

Another chime went ignored until the control center must have gotten fed up and patched it directly through to her anyway.

"Sam? Sweetheart, I just heard the news. I'm so sorry." Joe's voice was full of sympathy and support and Sam shook her head to clear the fleeting disappointment that it wasn't one of the three voices she most needed to hear.

* * *

**Tagrea, near the stargate**

The burgeoning Tagrean archaeological site surrounding the stargate had been given over to a military encampment for this latest offensive. In the command tent, Jack sat reviewing the latest data received from Earth: troop movements, revised timelines on major projects, and stuck in the middle of it all was a Tok'ra casualty list. He stared at the names halfway down the list: _Selmak and host, Jacob Carter_.

As he flipped through the supporting documentation and read the summary of Jacob's fate, an icy cold feeling settled in his gut. No way was he buying the official story. It was too much of a coincidence, coming right on the heels of Jacob's growing suspicions. General Hammond including this document, technically an internal Tok'ra matter, in Jack's latest strategic package, was his way of letting Jack know that he'd come to the same conclusion.

He sat back, rubbing a hand over the ache spreading up from his shoulders and throughout his skull. Carter must have already heard the news; they would have notified her directly. Jack played with the idea of using the stargate to radio her, but the Aschen were such sticklers for protocol that he had no doubt the "personal use of strategic assets" would be reported. Kinsey was just itching for a reason to come down on him. And while he may be spoiling for a fight, there was no need to drag Carter into that mess.

His scalp began to crawl as another thought hit him. Carter was now linked to two people known to oppose the Aschen treaty. Jack couldn't, he wouldn't, risk her or the others. Everyone talked about the bonds of SG-1, the lengths they would go to for each other. That had to stop now. The groundwork was already laid; their disagreement with him over the Aschen treaty had been fairly vocal at times.

But he had to make sure that whoever was behind this - and he didn't for a minute believe that the Aschen didn't have allies within Earth's power structure - didn't have any reason to think that Carter, or Daniel, or Teal'c might be picking up the flag of Jack's opposition and running with it. They had to believe that the schism was real and lasting.

He was still deep in thought, regrets and anger crashing through his brain, when the sound of booted feet running toward the tent pulled him back to the present. Captain McCormick appeared in the doorway, breathing heavily. Jack was on his feet even as his aide began speaking.

"It's a bloodbath, Sir."

McCormick and Jack headed to mission control to find a chaotic din of sound and motion. Radio calls were coming in from each of the three companies that were supposed to be securing a nearby planet. The sounds of staff blasts, automatic weapons fire, and dying men accented the urgent tones as reports of platoons of Jaffa, death gliders, and aerial support fire came over the radios.

"Get them back," Jack ordered. Orders started flying, relaying his call for the retreat, organizing cover support for the gate, alerting the medical teams. Jack listened with a sinking heart; it was too late. There wasn't supposed to be a substantial Jaffa presence on this one. Intel had indicated only light resistance.

_Losing resources_. That was what Jacob had said. What he hadn't said was, _What if the Aschen wanted those resources lost?_ Stretch out the weapon development process while pushing for strategies that served to deplete military resources. Jack shook his head. Carter was on the development team; there was no way she would let them... But would she even know? She had admitted to him that the science they were working with was beyond her. Could they be pulling the wool over her eyes? Using her to give the project validity and to assuage the fears of Earth's leaders as they waited for the miracle weapon?

The first casualties were returning through the gate and Jack's thoughts were redirected as he oversaw the logistics of handling more wounded than had ever been anticipated for this site, prepared a sitrep for the SGC, and visited with airmen - wounded, dying, grieving young men and women who deserved better than this. And through it all, a cold fire took root and grew stronger.

He wasn't going to keep quiet anymore.


	5. Two Letters

**Title:** Two Letters  
**Characters/Pairings:** Jack(/Sam), Sam/Joe Faxon  
**Notes/Warnings:** set in the 2010 AU. Two letters written between Sam and Jack in 2003. There is extra material that Jack scratched out of his letter (salutations & closings) that I couldn't get to format correctly here. If you're interested (it's not much), the letter is posted at AO3 in its entirety.

* * *

March 23, 2003

Dear Jack,

I am so sorry. I had planned to be back on Earth in time to attend your retirement party, or, at least, to talk to you in person before you headed up to the cabin. But, as you know, there was a glitch in the final phase of testing and they needed me to stay a little longer on the Aschen homeworld. I wish I could have been here for you.

Are you enjoying the fishing? Or is it still too cold yet?

I have to ask: what happened? The last I had heard, you were leading the offensive at Tagrea. Then, all of a sudden, you're retiring? Right before the final push? No one will tell me what happened, but the rumors that Kinsey had a hand in it reached even 970. I just can't see you capitulating to him.

Or is it still about the Aschen? Even you have to admit that they have upheld their end of the bargain. We could never have defeated the Goa'uld without their help. And they aren't trying to step in and seize power here, either militarily or politically; just trying to help us to advance to our knowledge and technology. I've actually been offered a place with the new Science Ministry. I'm thinking about resigning my commission.

I really want to talk to you. Please reconsider joining us for the Peace Celebration. You were such an important part of this victory. It just wouldn't feel right to celebrate without you there.

Your friend,

Sam

* * *

June 12, 2003

Carter,

Congratulations on your promotion, Colonel. My only regret about ditching the Peace Ceremony was not getting to see you wear those well-deserved eagles. But I don't think my presence there would have been appropriate.

Don't worry about missing my send-off (although you did miss out on the cake - Hammond sprang for the good stuff!). He said some nice things. Walter, Siler, and the Doc were all there. It was a real shindig. And now I've finally got what I've always wanted: peace, quiet, and plenty of fishing. That's what we were fighting for, right?

Enjoy your new job at the Science Ministry. I can only imagine how filled with geek joy you must be at what the Aschen are showing you. For all our sakes, I hope you are right about them. But either way, I'm done with the fight.

Keep your stick on the ice,

Jack

PS All the best on your engagement. Don't shake your head at me, Colonel - if he hasn't asked you yet, he will... very soon. You'll understand if I decline my invitation in advance.


	6. Dissolution

**Title:** Dissolution  
**Characters/Pairings:** Jack, Daniel  
**Notes/Warnings:** written for writerverse prompts: sunshine, cleaned up

* * *

**AUGUST 2003**

**Minnesota**

The afternoon sunlight reflected off the lake, making Jack squint a little as he stood on the small dock. A gentle breeze pushed small ripples across the surface, dark cracks weaving their way through the golden mirror.

He scratched at his jaw, a few days' growth of beard still an unfamiliar feeling, even after all these months. Jack sighed. Nearly a year now, since Jacob's death; nearly a year since he'd presided over the worst defeat the Earth forces had known in the war. Somewhat less than that since he had stood in the Oval Office and accused the Aschen representative to his face of engineering both those events.

The breeze carried the sound of a ringing cell phone. Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and kept his eyes on the water. A couple more rings and the call rolled over to voicemail and the stillness returned.

* * *

**Cheyenne Mountain**

Daniel hung up the phone with a frustrated sigh. He didn't know why he kept calling; Jack never answered. He stood and headed for the door, stopping just before he reached the threshold. He turned slowly and surveyed the room, barely recognizable as his office now that it was all cleaned up. Everything was packed into neatly labeled boxes, or already taken home.

Stargate Command was officially closed, its operations being subsumed by the new Office of Homeworld Security, and the Gate itself having already been moved to Washington. Most of these boxes - his notes, small artifacts, pieces of the history of dozens of worlds and of the program itself - would be following the Gate. The Smithsonian was adding a new Stargate Archive to the Air & Space Museum and had assured him that these would be vital additions to the exhibit.

He switched off the light and headed for the elevator. Everything felt wrong, being here alone. Sure, there was still a skeleton staff finalizing the shutdown, but still, he was alone. They should be celebrating; the war was over and the Goa'uld were defeated. But Sam had already gone to Washington, starting her new job and new life with an alacrity that surprised nearly everyone. And Teal'c was on Chulac, finally able to live in peace with his wife and son, working to stabilize the nascent Jaffa government.

And Jack was at the cabin, stubbornly refusing to take anyone's calls. Daniel hadn't even seen him for over a year. They had talked occasionally before Jack had been assigned to Tagrea, but not since. Daniel had found out about Jack's retirement through the SGC grapevine. He hadn't even been able to get back to Earth in time for the send-off. An urgent situation with a group of refugees had come up just before Daniel was due to head home and it managed to keep him offworld until well after Jack had left for Minnesota.

The elevator doors opened and Daniel began the long ride to the surface one last time.


	7. Pie

**Chapter Title:** Pie  
**Character:** Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson  
**Summary:** Jack hasn't answered any of his calls, so Daniel is forced to take a trip to Minnesota after the SGC is closed.  
**Notes:** follows soon after Dissolution

* * *

_August 2003_

After half a mile of loose gravel crunching under the tires, the silence when Daniel parked the rental car was overwhelming. He sat for a minute just looking at the cabin, squinting a bit in the mid-morning sunshine. This was the place Jack had invited them to - or, depending on who was telling the story, threatened them with - time and again. Now, Daniel wished he had taken him up on the offer at least once, when things were better.

It was peaceful here, birdsong and the leaves rustling in the breeze the only sound. Jack had, not surprisingly, resisted the new modernizations offered by the Aschen and the house stood among the trees much as Daniel was sure it always had: good, solid construction, nothing extraneous or frivolous, and impossible to reach without going out of your way - actually a lot like Jack these days.

As if Daniel's thoughts had summoned him (although it was more likely to have been the impossibly loud approach), Jack was suddenly standing in the doorway, glaring at his uninvited visitor. Daniel hadn't expected a warm welcome, given that Jack hadn't answered a single phone call or returned a message in months, but it was still disheartening. He sighed and got out of the car anyway, bringing the box on the passenger seat with him. He walked slowly up onto the wooden porch and stopped a few feet from the screen door that Jack hadn't opened.

"Hey Jack."

Jack leaned one shoulder against the doorframe and raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing here, Daniel?"

Daniel looked around at the surrounding woods and then back at his former teammate. "I guess 'I was in the neighborhood' isn't going to work, huh?"

Jack huffed and retreated into the cabin. Daniel let himself in and found Jack settling at the kitchen table, the contents of an open tackle box spread out in front of him.

Daniel took a seat across the table and put the box down in an empty spot. "I brought pie," he said.

Without glancing up from the fly he was tying, Jack bit out, "Drew the short straw again, eh, Daniel?"

Jack's needling wasn't unexpected and Daniel had no trouble letting it go, answering good-naturedly. "No, no, no straws this time, Jack. Just wanted to drop by and see an old friend." Daniel settled back in his chair and really looked at Jack. It had been over a year since they had both been in the same room, nearly two since they'd spent any appreciable time together without animosity.

He looked tired, careworn in a very literal sense. Daniel hadn't been able to see Jack after the massacre at Tagrea; Jack had been sequestered for weeks during the debriefing and extensive investigation. He hadn't even been allowed to attend Jacob's memorial service. Daniel had had to return to his offworld duties well before Jack had seen the light of day.

So, Daniel really had no benchmark to judge whether Jack had made peace with those ghosts or not in the year since. But he knew Jack and he knew that, peacefully or not, he still carried each one of the dead with him. Maybe retirement had been the right option for Jack, but the look of elation on Kinsey's face when he had announced Jack's resignation to the Stargate Operations Panel made Daniel certain that the decision hadn't been Jack's alone.

"You heard they shut the SGC down?"

Jack nodded, tying off the fly. "Read about it."

"Yeah. So, I've taken a position at Georgetown. We're starting a xeno-archeology program and I'll be consulting with their linguistics department as well. They'd love to have you..." That was an understatement - every institution in the world wanted a chance to recruit the reclusive, heroic Jack O'Neill - but the look Jack shot at him shut down that line of conversation. Daniel gave him a half-smile. "Never hurts to ask."

"It might," Jack replied tightly. He placed the completed fly in the tackle box and threw his tools down on the table. He slouched against the back of the chair and stared at Daniel, making a similar assessment to the one Daniel had just completed. Daniel wondered what he saw: the years of friendship, the perceived betrayal over the Aschen treaty, the pain of the loss of his SGC family as his life took yet another unexpected turn. Or something else, something deeper that Daniel would never recognize in himself.

After a minute, the tense lines around Jack's eyes and mouth eased slightly. He looked at the bright pink box on the table. Gently lifting the lid, he eyed the pie inside, then looked back at up at Daniel.

Daniel waited quietly.

Jack gestured to the cabinets and started clearing the table. "What the hell. Grab some plates and let's dig in."

* * *

The creak of hinges and the soft thunk of the screen door closing woke Daniel. The afternoon had gone better than he had expected: some pie, some fishing (on Jack's part) and some reading (on Daniel's part), followed by a fresh fish dinner and a game of chess.

He got up. When he stepped through the back door of the cabin, he saw Jack standing on the little lakeside dock, holding a beer. Daniel walked down to join him. If Jack had wanted to be alone, he would have made sure Daniel hadn't heard him leave the cabin.

They stood there for several minutes, Daniel looking sidelong at Jack looking out over the lake. Jack took a couple of pulls off his beer. He exuded tension and worry and not a little anger.

But when he finally spoke, his voice sounded tired, resigned. "You shouldn't have come, Daniel." He winced. "Dammit, forget I said that."

"What's going on, Jack? Why shouldn't I be here?" Daniel took a deep breath when his questions were met with ongoing silence. "Maybe I needed to see you. Everything's ending, changing. Did you ever stop to think that maybe your team needed you?"

He turned to face Jack who was resolutely looking at the far shoreline. "We were all looking for closure and there was this big gaping hole and you wouldn't even pick up your phone."

A muscle ticked in Jack's jaw. "You three stopped being my team a long time ago, Daniel."

"Is that what this about? That we wouldn't back you up about the Aschen?" Daniel knew that Jack was too stubborn to outright admit the possibility that he had been wrong. But he had thought that now, after the treaty had been in effect for a couple of years, including nearly a year of post-Goa'uld peace, Jack might have at least accepted the reality that the Aschen had lived up to every one of their promises.

Daniel paced up to the grass, irritated and frustrated by Jack's pigheadedness. Or maybe by the fact that this one issue had essentially destroyed the bonds that SG-1 had built, the family that Daniel had finally started to believe in, the only family he'd had left. He whirled back around, ready to give Jack a piece of his mind, but stopped when he saw Jack's head and shoulders bowed in defeat.

"Jack, what is it? Why are you still holding on to this?"

He had startled Jack, by choosing a course other than yelling or retreating in a cold fury, as so many of their previous arguments on the Aschen had ended. Jack's head came up straight, his muscles tensed. He looked around slowly, assessing their surroundings, before turning to Daniel with a strange, almost yearning, look on his face.

"I..." He paused and then lifted the bottle to his mouth and drained it. His expression turned stony. "I can't tell you, Daniel."

"Can't? Or won't? If you know something..." Was there something that Jack knew that they didn't? Had he finally gotten the proof he kept insisting would surface eventually? If so, why was he keeping it to himself?

Daniel walked back down and put a hand on Jack's shoulder. "I have to leave in the morning. I have some meetings in DC in the afternoon. But I could come back, after. We could talk."

Suddenly, Jack's expression hardened. "Forget it. You won't believe anything I have to say, anyway. Just another crazy old kook spouting conspiracy theories. Go, enjoy your life in Washington with all the benefits the Aschen can offer. Don't expect me to answer the door next time."

He brushed past Daniel, leaving him confused and distinctly irritated. The sound of the door banging closed roused him; by the time Daniel got inside, the bedroom door was shut and locked and Jack wouldn't answering his requests to come out. He still hadn't come out when Daniel had to leave the next morning to make the drive to Minneapolis, where the Aschen terminal would transport him to DC. Daniel said goodbye to blank piece of wood.

He left feeling distinctly unsettled, as if Jack had conveyed more than either of them realized. And suddenly it seemed like a good idea not to mention his little side trip to Minnesota to visit that 'crazy old conspiracy theorist.' But he'd be damned if that was the last time they'd see each other.


End file.
